The Mud and the Mire

It has been days and days of panic.

This stinks for a number of reasons. Which most of you can probably imagine. I am having a serious issue trying to create a fun family Christmas when I am unable to move. So it is getting done one tiny little thing at a time.

I have a hundred things that I am expected to do this week. Functions and jobs and people who depend on me. I am praying that I don't let any more of them down. I am feeling a touch depressed, if you haven't noticed by now. The reason being that I LOVE Christmas. Very much bad. All I want to do is bask in the loveliness of the season and all I CAN do is sit here paralyzed by fear. Bogus.

My Son has been sick since Friday. He has a fever that won't break and he is not wanting to eat. As an Emet the first thing you think when someone won't eat is that they are about to throw up. So there's that. I feel hideous for this poor little baby all grunty and feverish. All I want to do is snuggle him and love him up. All I CAN do is sit here paralyzed by fear. Unacceptably bogus.

You get the idea. Things are kind of piling up. I felt the need to share the bulk of what's going on. If I talk to you in the next couple of days and make some sort of excuse why I can't do something, the real reason is that I am sitting here on my couch afraid to move. I am sitting here praying for courage and for healing. Feeling guilty for all of the things that haven't gotten done and for all of the things that are yet to be undone.

So that's that. That's where I am today. I am trying to learn to thank God *in* all situations as it says to in 1 Thessalonians. I don't know yet what this panic is for, I don't know why this is, but I HAVE to trust it is for something. He will make ALL things work together for my good. He can and will reach me and lift me up. Even out of the lowest of the lows. So, please, come Lord Jesus.